Wind storms and snails

About a week ago Spain was having very high winds, and a huge sign was knocked loose from a building near a highway, making the road dangerous. They couldn't take it down until the winds calmed down, and the highway was blocked off (perhaps partway, I'm not sure). All this is fine and dandy, but when I arrived at the bus stop that morning, I knew something was wrong when I saw the line, as long as a freight train. Oop, the buses weren't running well, I thought. I had planned to buy minutes for my cell phone at the tobacco stand that day after work, but it turns out I needed them sooner than that. Luckily, I had enough to send an instant message to a friend, who called my school for me. I ended up walking/running to the train station, and made the 30 minute walk in 20 minutes, arriving before the first bus. Everyone was very understanding, since the traffic jams were all over the news. I got to school and substituted in the first grade class, enjoying the day and not yelling at the class even once. They must have been all sleeping, since I had no problems whatsoever.

Last Sunday, I went with Kristen and her friend Carmen to el Retiro to relax and eat lunch in the park. It was about 70 degrees, weather which has stayed with us throughout this week as well. After eating and taking a stroll through the paths crowded with lovers and baby strollers, we went to the Prado to see the Francis Bacon exhibit. His paintings are interesting and good, but I can't say that I enjoyed them because they are quite disturbing. The carnality, violence, despair, and confusion of the artwork makes me utterly thankful for the hope that I have in God. Later, during the evening, I got to talk to Colin this afternoon for almost an hour. Colin, that was a wonderful end to my week (or beginning according to English calendars).

This week I have enjoyed walking outside in t-shirts and talking with other assistants and teachers during breaks outside in the sun. This week I talked with Oscar, another assistant at my school, and he said that he would like to be with the first graders next year. I love the first graders, but I also immensely enjoy my time with the fourth graders. It would be wonderful to be with the fourth graders alone, especially since I like to work with the fourth grade English teacher. We have a good relationship and I feel like I would have more freedom to be creative and contribute to the class and instruction.

My last news (very important!!) Last week I ate snails. And...they taste good! I was writing something on the computer, probably an e-mail, and Angelita poked her head into my room. "Do you like snails?" she asked me. How was I to know? It's not common the American that has eaten snail. So, I went to the kitchen and tried. Here's a list of things that I have learned to eat/have eaten in Spain.

snails
unpeeled shrimp with their heads
octopus
squid
rabbit
all varieties of fish (with heads and all the bones...each one uses a different technique to cut it)
sardines
cow stomach

Substituting and such

This past week the first grade English teacher's mother has been in the hospital, and just got home a couple of days ago. So, I got to substitute in the class. Sometimes I think that the whole class is easier to teach than the small group. I really enjoyed knowing that I was going to teach ahead of time, so I could plan the lesson (and not have it changed on me last minute). The kids giggled as they put on my clothes to dress in warm clothes for winter and flip flops and umbrella for rain. Waterproof is another fun word to teach. I bet they've never seen a teacher spill water on her gloves (on purpose) and then on the floor (not on purpose) to demonstrate that it's not waterproof (but my plastic folder is). One of my fourth graders came down with something for me to write for the fourth grade English teacher, and while I did that, I had him lead the class in a "Simon Says" type game. It was fun to see him interact with the kids. He's one of the good ones (of which there are many).

Tonight some friends and I went out in downtown Madrid to celebrate Kristen's birthday. We ended the night with some of the best ice cream that I have eaten. Mmmm. You know, I really enjoyed the time with friends, relaxing and talking and eating tapas. I just wish that my body and brain didn't shut off before we were done, telling me, in a robotic annoying voice...it's bedtime...sleep now...need sleep...no funciono...powering down...zzzzz. But, tonight is Friday, so I can spend a little more time in my bed tomorrow morning before waking up to make pancakes and raspberry syrup for a late breakfast. And that is a comforting thought.

Crash Course in Sledding

Last Saturday, a group from the church and friends went to Cotos, which is about 2 hours by train, to sled and enjoy the fresh air. Each time I leave the city, the fresh air revives me. I need to leave civilization more often, I think. I was the first one at the train station that morning, arriving at 7:50 AM after having only slept six hours the night before. Around 8:25 the rest arrived and I forced my drowsy self to stand and greet the others. I took advantage of the trip to get to know a couple new people. In Cercedilla (Amy, we changed trains here to go to Segovia and met that Puerto Rican and Russian), we transferred to an ancient, sluggish, and charming train that took us as far as Cotos. The slopes were jam packed with kids sledding, so we pulled our four sleds to a slope a little more removed from the action. I understand now why it wasn't as populated. They were few the runs that didn't end in a spectacular crash due to the many large bumps. I got about six runs in total. My final run was with Guille, and we took a flying start, racing down the hill. It ended in a complete wipe out. I left my DNA on the slope, and my nose is still a little sore from where I bonked it on Guille's head. He took the brunt of the fall though, since I fell on top. I'm quite proud of the blood stain I left in the snow...like in the movies! Well, maybe not that spectacular. I'm very happy that no one was seriously injured.

After getting back to San Fernando, I helped cook for a dinner at the church in Canillejas. It was a late Valentine's Day dinner with entertainment, a fund raiser for the youth retreat during spring break. At the end of the evening, I was so tired I could have slept standing up, but I was also very contented. Sleepy and happy. The snow and fresh air combined with working in the kitchen made a full day, but a very good day as well. I had a lot of fun in the kitchen working with the others and I always enjoy work that brings visible results.

Sledding

Carnaval

Conversation upon seeing one of my first graders running in the hallway.

"Alejandro, come here," I said, motioning with my hand for him to return toward me.
"Es que...(it's that...)
"Come here."
"Es que...es que...tenía que...el profe me..." (it's just...it's just...I had to...the teacher let me"
"Alejandro..."
"Ah...(light bulb moment)...I no run...sorry teacher Erica."

Yay! No run, in English, from a very very very out of it first grader. It made my day. I'm such a meanie; I still made him go back and walk.

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Yesterday the school was chock full of strange characters: clowns, hippies, vampires, Roman soldiers, butterflies, princesses, cooks, etc. You would think that you had entered a strange new world. The kids were ready to celebrate Carnaval from before the school day began. I thought about staying for the celebration after school, but after a very full day, I just wanted to go home. I worked all Friday instead of the normal half day, making up hours that I had begged off to travel. The 27-2 of March I'm going to be in Sevilla with Angelita, staying with her son and his family. At dismissal, the parents, coming to dress their kids in costumes and to see the parade and celebration, filled the entryway to the brim, forcing me to elbow my way to fresh air. Even though I had left the school and my students behind, costumed kids were everywhere...in the grocery store, in the train, walking to the bus. What fun...the more innocent side of Carnaval. During the morning, the fourth-sixth graders delighted their teachers and classmates with songs and poetry (complete with noise-makers, masks, and party hats). One hour less of teaching for me. The first graders behaved better than my fourth graders and we enjoyed ourselves learning about the circus and singing "Head, shoulders, knees and toes." During my lunch break, I taught my Friday afternoon private class and grabbed a sandwich to eat in the park in the 20 minutes that remained before classes at the school started again. Me on one bench, and a homeless man sleeping on a nearby one. Perhaps that's why one man walking by gave me a strange look and muttered. Excess of food and joviality and homelessness...what a juxtaposition.

Did I tell you I got my residency card? Well, I did, about a week ago. It expires in September, when I entered the country. Have a good day everyone!

How are you?

One of Colin's friends wrote on my wall to find out what I'm up to by asking, "How's Spain?" I would suppose that this question means the following: "How are you (friend, who happens to be in Spain)?" "What is Spain like?" "How do you like Spain?" or "What in the world are you doing in Spain?" However, I always imagine it a little differently:

"How is Spain?"
"Well, last time we talked, it was a little depressed...but excited that Carnival is coming up! A little short on money too."
"Oh, yes? And the kids?"
"Well, the ones that are here are fine. You know, she's been adopting a lot of kids from Morocco and Latin America. And how are you?"
...

So, next time someone asks me, "How is Spain?" do not be surprised to hear, "Fine. I'm good too."

....
This week has been a hard one here for the church in Madrid. In the last three days, three people have died: a friend's father, a pastor's son, and a friend's uncle. Prayer from one part of the church family for another would be much appreciated, as many Christians (churches and families are usually rather connected) around Madrid are hurting right now. Especially for the first person mentioned, as she and her mom are not only suffering with the loss of the third member of their family, but he was also taken from them in minutes with no previous warning. Thanks in advance for your prayers.

Here comes the sun...nanana

After a week of rain and gray clouds, the sun has finally scrounged up the courage to show it's bright face this morning. Yesterday it snowed a bit, minuscule crystals of ice floating through the air as I rode the bus across the river to a meeting about the exams the students will be taking. Asking a dumb question with a more than obvious answer to an older lady who was easing herself into the neighboring seat, "Is it snowing outside?" I gained a willing conversation partner until my stop by the plaza de toros. She told me a bit about the school/palace where I was headed, where her daughter had gone to school many years ago. Bidding her goodbye, I found myself amongst other English speakers hurrying to get in out of the cold as well. These meetings are almost surreal sometimes in the sense that the whole walk there and inside the building are so full of English that you can almost forget you're in Spain.

The meetings covered renewing contracts (for those of us first-year assistants), visas for those who were having problems, the exams, and included a workshop that some students hijacked to ask about problems they were having at their school...things that many assistants were having. Mostly inconsistencies between their official job responsibilities and restrictions and what they were (in reality, not on paper) expected to do at the school...discipline and things. It was good to hear what the other assistants were doing at their schools and what problems they were coming up against. My group, the end of the alphabet group, ended about 8:00 pm (the meetings began at 4 pm), and I headed off with a group walking toward the metro. On the way to my small group meeting in Canillejas, I enjoyed the company of another teacher (3 years teaching in Florida...then she hopped over here to be an assistant so she could live in Spain) and we talked about teacher-y things. That was encouraging. Gave me some more things to think about.

Sunday (for you, Mom)

Saturday evening I wrote out, word for word, what I wanted to say Sunday morning. I was so nervous that without doing so, I would have been standing in front of the congregation, unable to find words in either English or Spanish. I was nervous, but not as much as I feared. I repeated my thoughts during the evening with the youth group, though didn't read my paper the second time. I said some dumb things (I mentioned that I had been "thinking some...thoughts"), but I'm trying to laugh at myself. Mom, you're right, the reflection that went into it was valuable for me. I went through my journal, reading what I had written about my studies, and then made those thoughts more cohesive.

Here's an English version of what I shared (more or less):

Lately, I have been reading in Romans about the spirit that God has given us. Romans 8:15 says: "For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." Before we received the Spirit that binds us to God, our spirit was the exact opposite of the freedom we are offered. Our old spirit was one of fear, sin, and slavery. The good thing is that we died to this spirit, separating from it. Rescuing us from the old spirit, God gave us a new spirit full of life.

This passage spoke to me because lately I have been thinking a lot about the future, in some decisions that affect my future, at least for the next year. The future is something that frightens me at times in the following sense: It's not secure; we can't control it even though we try; and without being able to see what is ahead, it is difficult to trust that we are on the right path. But, thinking like this comes from our old spirit, not the Spirit from God. We were adopted, and now we are on a journey with our Father driving. Even though we don't have the whole itinerary or map of the trip, our Father does. He knows where we are walking, knows where we need to go, and so I believe that he won't permit his children to wander off the path if they are seeking Him.
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You know, it kind of reminds me of this one time I was with Dad walking through a nature preserve to glimpse some endangered quail (or were they chickens, Dad?) on the way home from Chicago. For as far as I could see, tall waving grasses stretched toward the sky, the expanse only broken by a few copses of pine trees. Walking into the grass was like wading into the sea. On either side, the strands parted to let Dad and I through. Soon, I could see nothing but the grass that had swallowed us whole and the clear blue sky directly above. When we came to a clearing covered with fallen cottonwood trees, chopped down by the caretakers, I climbed up onto the tallest stump. Looking out over where we been, I could see what before had been hidden while I was buried in the prairie: the car, the road, and the tops of the grass. It reminded me of how, on our own, we walk through life with a limited perspective, but once in awhile, God provides a tree to raise us out of the short term to see what lies ahead and to give us perspective on the past. Just as I thought back then, I think that right now I'm in the prairie, swishing through the snake grass, far from any tree. Wouldn't it be nice to have trees or even stumps to climb every few meters? Or, perhaps not...I'm not sure.